Smells Like Love
by Moogles With Flamethrowers
Summary: It was an ordinary sweatshirt with an extraordinary smell, and Zexion believes that the owner of the scent is his soul mate. What he doesn't realize is the scent belongs to a certain blonde haired male. Zemyx.


Smells Like Love

It all started with sweatshirt. It was not a sweatshirt that anyone would own, let alone want. But still, it sat in a pile in the lost and found bin of Hollow Bastion High School in its baby blue "Midgar University Moogles" glory. But it wasn't the actual sweatshirt that caused it to be lifted from the lost and found bin, never to be placed into the dark recesses ever again. It was the smell that lingered on the sweatshirt.

Every night since he had found this odd treasure, Zexion Ishida retrieved the sweatshirt from its hiding place and take in the scent that refused to escape. He placed the shirt at his pillow before bed, and fell asleep with his security blanket under his nose. And in the morning, Zexion replaced the shirt in its hiding place so it wouldn't be accidentally washed.

It was one Sunday night that Zexion realized that he needed to find the owner of the sweatshirt.

So that is where our story begins- a typical Monday morning at HBHS.

**MONDAY**

"Zexion! Over here!"

The slate haired boy turned his head to see Marluxia waving from across the courtyard, holding a two plastic cups of coffee. The junior gratefully took the cup from his senior friend and drank while the pink haired, self-proclaimed sex god bantered on about his "latest lay". Zexion nodded tiredly at his words, not particularly caring about what Marluxia was saying. There was only one thing on his mind… well two, but the taste of the coffee did not count in Zexion's mind. He wished he hadn't showered that morning, because the sweet smell would be a perfect distraction from Marluxia. He pulled the glove on his hand up to expose the skin of his wrist, which he held close to his nose. The only scent there was the overly sterile smell of soap.

The smell that Zexion had discovered was not a normal smell. It was clean, yet worn in. It was sweet, but slightly tangy (Zexion had once licked the sleeve to see if the scent transferred to a taste, but he basically tasted cotton). The scent was not over pungent like the colognes that filled the mall with their headache-creating mixtures, but it was not a subtle, scentless candle type smell. The sweatshirt had also not retained any smell of the lost and found box, which smelled like sweat and old socks. Being an intelligent student, Zexion doubted the garment had any sort of "magic"'. But what else could bind such a scent to a sweatshirt?

"What are you doing to your hand?"

Zexion snapped his eyes open, realizing Marluxia was looking at him as though he had just molested his own hand. The slate haired teen laughed nervously, throwing his hand down. Marluxia merely rolled his eyes and began to scope out what he called a "flirtation device". Zexion called it a "victim". "Marluxia, can I ask you a question?"

The pink-haired senior nodded. "Shoot."

"Have you ever been with a girl who smells indescribably good?" Zexion asked. He realized how out on a limb he was, but perhaps the question could lead him to an answer.

"Well, can't say I've been smelling every girl that falls under my charm, but there is one girl that sticks out. Her name is Aerith. She has this floral scent that really turns me on. She's such a square though… a shame for such a pretty girl like her."

Zexion nodded, not quite knowing how to take this information. The sweatshirt didn't smell anything like flowers, but he could be wrong. "Thanks Marls. I was just curious."

Marluxia huffed. "A strange thing to be curious about, but you're a bit of a weirdo anyway."

Zexion flinched at the last statement, but asked, "What does she look like? Where can I find her? What grade is she in? Who…" Marluxia put a finger over Zexions lips. Wordlessly, he pointed to a group of senior girls who, despite the cold weather, wore short skirts and lightweight jackets. The girl he pointed to looked the most sensible of the group, opting for leggings and a thick pink scarf. Marluxia cocked an eyebrow, but Zexion only nodded. He walked boldly to Aerith, who turned, rosy faced to him. "What a cute little junnie!" one of the girls, a skinny blonde wearing shorts and knee socks.

Aerith rolled her eyes and asked, sweetly, "Are you one of Marluxia's friends?" She giggled before he could answer. "You're so tiny for a junnie. I would have guessed you were a freshman." Zexion stayed silent for this as well. His only reply was to move in closer to Aerith and took in the scent of her collar. It was a little too close for one of Aerith's friends, a tough brunette who grabbed Zexion and threw him to the ground. Zexion was afraid, until he smelled it: the sweet fragrance was on her gloves. She pinned him to the ground, with a growl of rage in protection of her friend, only for Zexion to lift his head and capture her lips. The brunette was shocked for a moment, but regained her rage. With a sharp blow, she punched Zexion in the nose. Zexion clasped his hands to his face, whimpering. "Don't be such a pussy, bastard!" the brunette shouted, losing every inch of femininity in wrath. She walked away, meeting up with a tall, indistinguishable student. She interlocked her hand with his, and walked away, giving Zexion the finger.

Marluxia dipped down at Zexion's side, handing him a tissue. "You have balls, Zex. But the common sense of an ass." The junior merely whimpered in pain.

**TUESDAY**

With a new grudge and a sore face, Zexion returned to school. He yet, he still had his hope. The mystery girl was somewhere. Zexion could feel it. But, he needed help. Therefore, he confronted Marluxia in the courtyard before school. He had placed the sweatshirt in his schoolbag, ready to reveal his secret to his best friend. Taking a deep breath, he said quickly, "Marluxia,Ihavesomethingreallyimportanttotelltyou."

The pinkette cleared his throat unnecessarily. "What would that be?"

Carefully, Zexion lifted the sweatshirt from his schoolbag. "I found this shirt in the lost and found bin a couple weeks back. I need you to locate the girl the scent of this belongs to. It would mean so much to me." He gave the sweatshirt to Marluxia to smell, and he did so, tentatively. "Anyone come to mind?"

Marluxia shook his head. "I'll keep my eyes and nose open, but I don't recall that smell. You do realize how stupid this is that you're basing a relationship on the way the person smells? They could just use a good smelling laundry detergent."

It was Zexion's turn to shake his head in disapproval. "No, I can sense it… It's destiny."

**6969696969**

Marluxia rushed into the cafeteria, and took his seat across from Zexion at their usual table. He flipped open a yearbook and pointed to a mousy looking sophomore. "Her name is Namine. She's wearing a red sweatshirt from Traverse Town Institute of Technology. She reeks of the sweatshirt that you have." Zexion crumpled his nose at Marluxia's use of "reek". "She'll meet you after school tomorrow." Zexion glared at the photo, before nodding. "At least she's cute. Imagine if it was… this Selphie chick." He pointed to a picture of a small girl with a flippy hairdo. Zexion glared at Marluxia now. "She's not that bad looking."

Marluxia shrugged the statement off, and took a bite of his salad.

**WEDNESDAY**

"You must be Zexion?"

The slate haired junior looked his "date" up and down. Zexion chewed on his lips nervously at her appearance. She wore her blonde hair in a messy ponytail, a thick red "TTIT" sweatshirt, baggy jeans, and sloppy sneakers. But the smell was what confused him. While his precious scent did exist, it was faint. "And you must be Namine," he replied, hoping his voice showed no signs of disdain. Apparently not, because she smiled warmly. "I was maybe hoping I could go to your home. Would that be any problem?"

"No… it would be warmer I suppose… and it's not far." Zexion mentally swore to himself. He would rather not have the girl, who Zexion was fairly certain was not the sweater girl. But the courteous thing to do was to accept, therefore, he led her to his home. "Perhaps there is still a chance…"

He pulled a key out of his pocket and allowed himself in, ushering Namine out of the cold. Namine entered, placed her schoolbag by the door, and asked, "So you're Marluxia's friend? I've heard a lot about him. He's slept with half the girls in the sophomore class."

"So I've heard. And yes, I am friends with Marluxia." Zexion was tempted to ask if Namine had included herself in the half, but he refrained. "That's a nice sweatshirt."

Namine stared down at what she probably considered an ugly shirt. "Oh, um, thank you. It's not mine though. I borrowed it from my cousin Larxene. Had to wash it a few times to get the smell out. Don't get me wrong, it smelled great! It was really distracting though."

So Zexion now had a new source. Namine had apparently borrowed the sweatshirt from Larxene. The smell was strong, so the previous wearer must be the owner. Zexion placed his hands on Namine's and said, "Namine, You seem like a really nice girl, but I don't think you're the right girl for me. I'm sure you'll find a nice boy soon, but he's not me."

Namine smiled. "I kind of figured. You looked nervous from the start. But I must say, you are a really nice guy. I hope you find who you're looking for, okay?" And with those words, she stood and left the house.

**THURSDAY**

"She wasn't the girl," Zexion said, twirling spaghetti onto his fork. "She's nice, but she wasn't right. I could smell it."

Marluxia smiled, but didn't say a word. "I kinda figured that much."

The plastic fork dropped from Zexion's hands to the table. "How did you figure that one out?"

The corners of Marluxia's mouth curled in a perverted smirk that Zexion knew all too well. "After you dumped her, she came to me."

If Zexion had another fork, that would have dropped too. "You can't be serious! What the hell did you do to her!" He had told Namine to find a nice boy, and Marluxia did not fit the description.

"Relax! I know her through a friend. She's an untouchable. We just talked. She told me everything that happened."

"Oh." Zexion stared down at his hands in shame. "Do you by any chance know someone by the name Larxene?"

"Hmm… I believe I do. She's in my English class, and I sometimes see her walking out of the gym between fourth and fifth block. You have gym fifth, right? Maybe you can catch her then."

Zexion nodded, but in his head, he planned how he would catch Larxene between the classes. He figured it would never work, but nevertheless, he found himself hiding in the boy's locker room during fourth block. It was quiet; therefore, he pulled a book from his bag and began to read. To his misfortune, about five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring, he heard footsteps. Fearful, he grabbed his bag and buried himself in a cart filled with laundry. The smell was almost unbearable, but he was safely hidden from whoever was about to enter the locker room before he was supposed to.

A blonde boy, either a junior or a senior, entered the locker room. He was tall, somewhat tan, and his blonde hair was styled for a rock concert. He sat on the bench where Zexion had been seated, stretched, and pulled his hoodie off over his head. Zexion's breath hitched as the boy's lean stomach was exposed as the shirt underneath rose, then fell. He looked around, and lifted (Zexion nearly gasped) the book that he had so carelessly left on the bench. The blonde, however, was unsuspecting, and flipped through the book with a content look on his features. Not a moment later, the door slammed open once more, and a blonde girl who was searing with anger approached the boy and slapped him across the face. "How could you? I was told that you were holding hands with Tifa on Monday! How could you fall under her boy-trapping spell! She's dating that Cloud guy, and I hear she kissed some punk Junior!"

"I was not holding hands with her because I wanted to! She asked me because she broke up with Cloud and wanted to make him jealous so he would go back to her!"

"She's such a whore, Demyx! What about the other junior she was kissing! What's his name… Zexion!"

"Zexion wouldn't do something like that! He's in my algebra class, and I know that he wouldn't!"

Zexion's face heated up slightly. He had never really been complimented like that. And this Demyx guy? He tried to think back to his algebra classes, attempting to remember the blonde, but his mind didn't process. The argument was far too interesting.

"How the hell do you know? He's just in your damn class! You shouldn't judge bookworms by their covers!"

"Dammit, Larxene! I just know okay!"

Larxene was silent, but soon burst into shrill laughter. "Oh, I see! You've developed a classroom crush!" Zexion nearly choked.

"I don't! He probably doesn't even know who I am anyway!" He coughed before stuttering, "And besides! I'm straight!"

Larxene turned away in disapproval. "Straight or not, we're over!" With a final violent slap, Larxene exited. The dejected blonde sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat, he began to walk out of the dressing room. But Zexion's curiosity got the better of him "Wait!" He called, climbing from the laundry bin, a few socks clinging to his hair.

The smell was overpowering. It wafted into Zexion's line of scent, as soon as he was freed from his bitter prison. It wound around his body, enveloping it before settling to a delicate breeze of a scent. Demyx turned, appearing somewhat perplexed, but smiled. "Oh, hello Zexion. I didn't think anyone was here." He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Sorry about what happened earlier. I hope you aren't angry about what Larxene said about you." A nervous chuckle escaped his pale lips. "Are you okay? You look kind of pale."

Zexion was certain he was. The scent was distracting him. He could hardly breathe at the mere thought of ecstasy of finding the scent of his self-proclaimed lover. But more than that, he was a little nervous at the realization that his lover was very male, and quite attractive even in Zexion's straight eyes. He was still straight… right?

This worried Zexion. He began to sweat, and his mouth was dry. "I'm f-fine…" he stuttered. He left the locker room as fast as his un-athletic, short legs would carry him.

**FRIDAY**

Zexion curled under his blankets Friday night. He had spent the day avoiding the blonde, which he was certain was the owner of his beloved scent. Nevertheless, even now his arms were wrapped tenderly around the sweatshirt. His ears were keen for his mother's footsteps, which in due time were heard. Zexion quickly hid the sweatshirt, as she pulled open the door.

His mom was dressed nicely, as though to go on a date. "Zexion? I'm going out tonight. Do you mind staying here alone for a couple hours?"

The teen nodded, and his mother pecked him on the forehead. She left, closing the door behind her. Zexion lay back, listening to the sound of a car pulling out, then nothing. His ears filled with the soft sounds of the night, until a disruption filled his senses. A girly squeak protruded from his lips at the sound of a knocking on his window. He fearfully turned his head (since he was unsure whether it was an intruder), and to his utter shock, Demyx was leaning against his window. The slate haired teen rushed to the window and forcefully opened it. "What is the purpose of this?" Zexion growled, pulling the blonde closer to him.

Said teen wobbled on the lattice he so gracefully balanced on. "Zexion! Careful!" But it was too late. He yelped as he tipped forward, and by sheer fate, his lips crashed against Zexion's into an awkward kiss.

It was not a long kiss, since Demyx's foot was slipping, and he wanted nothing but to enter the room. They broke apart so Demyx could wriggle through. "What are you doing here?" the slate haired teen asked, breathing heavily. "And what was with that kiss?"

Demyx held up the book that Zexion had forgotten yesterday in his efforts to escape. "You forgot your book. I wanted to give it to you at school, but you seemed to be avoiding me. And what about the kiss? You didn't seem to mind."

Zexion snatched up the book, and pouted. "I do mind!" he shouted, but Demyx only laughed.

"You're such a girl!" Demyx put his thumb on Zexion's cheek and leaned in for a second kiss, but Zexion pushed the blonde away. "I am not a girl!" Zexion shrieked. He lifted his hand to push Demyx away, but a scent caught his nose. It was a scent he had become so familiar with, so at first, he thought it was his imagination. But the sweatshirt lay hidden under his blankets, and the only possible source was the blonde before his eyes. Zexion moved his hands up to stroke the soft hair behind Demyx's ears. His lips lingered millimeters away. Zexion, paralyzed by the scent, whispered, "You smell nice…"

Zexion could feel Demyx's lips curl into a smirk before they were crashed against his own. Zexion was vulnerable in this situation, and allowed Demyx's hands and lips free reign on his body. However, he still asked, "Why me? How do you love me?"

"You could say it was a love at first sight," Demyx sighed. "Ever since I set my eyes on you in algebra, I knew you were the only one for me. I dated other girls to get my mind off such a crush, but they just weren't the same as that quiet boy in the front row."

Zexion's head sagged. He broke apart from Demyx, and walked to his bed. Slowly, he uncovered the sweatshirt that had brought him simple pleasure. He handed it to Demyx, and muttered, "I wish I could tell you the same stories, but I love you because I vowed to love the owner of this sweatshirt… It's your smell, Demyx. I'm naturally attracted to it."

Demyx smiled. "It's as though I know nothing about you, yet I love you more than I have ever loved."

And although Zexion knew their so-called relationship was senseless, they still loved, kissed, and touched. Zexion had no regrets, and he knew Demyx was his true love. He could sense it.


End file.
